Hidden Scars
by bluirinka
Summary: The battle at the Ministry left some scars on everyone - but what happens when the brain that attacked Ron starts to make complications? Ron will have to fight Darkness for all he holds dear...including a certain Hermione Granger. RHr, HG. chapter 4 up!
1. Awakening

HIDDEN SCARS, by Rennynev  
  
Type of story: Summer after 5th year  
  
A/N - Well hello, everyone. Thanks so much to all the people who left such positive reviews! I think the first chapter went a little too fast, and I didn't cover things I wanted to, so I touched it up. Sorry to have to make you read some things a second time, but I like it better now. Please review!  
  
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The wind ran its hundreds of cool fingers through his bright red hair; he soared straight into a cloud, moisture enveloping him. Seconds later he emerged from its moist depths, kissed by the sun and dried almost immediately. For a few moments, the boy didn't even remember the thin, sleek piece of wood he was sitting on. He soared through the air, the grin on his face the most genuine anyone could ever encounter. But inevitably, he slowly began to drop, nearing the ground, until the tips of his toes skimmed startlingly green grass. He looked back into the purely blue sky, which was almost as blue as his own eyes, and then climbed off his broom with unmatched agility, turning to look at the humble leaning house, where a solitary figure waited in the doorway –   
  
"Ron! Get up!"  
  
The door slammed, and the sleeping boy jerked out of his peaceful dream and opened one weary eye.  
  
"Ginny!" he moaned. "Why d'you have to..."  
  
He rolled over, getting further entangled in his frighteningly orange bedspread, finally finding the edge and extending one foot to stand gingerly on the wooden floor, which creaked noisily. He got up and slouched over to the mirror, where the sight of himself drove any fatigue out of his body.  
  
His reflection was tall and lanky; he had pale skin, with freckles dotting every conceivable part of his body. His eyes were the blue of washed denim, and on his arms were horrifying rips in his flesh that looked only half healed. He fought to retch in disgust at the sight of them, and instead took a small bottle off his dresser marked "THOUGHT-WOUND SALVE," and began applying liberal amounts of the salve to his injuries.  
  
When he was sufficiently treated, Ron Weasley put his clothes on haphazardly and began his descent down the stairs of his home. He walked down one flight, swerved, then walked down another flight, turned at the landing and finally found himself in the warm kitchen.  
  
"Morning, Ronnie," said his mother, and placed a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon in front of the chair that Ron usually sat in.  
  
"Thanks, Mum," said Ron, and began heartily wolfing down the provided meal.  
  
Ginny came down the stairs. "Hey Mum," she said, giving her mother a quick peck on the cheek.  
  
"Good morning, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, handing Ginny a plate identical to Ron's.  
  
"Oh, Mum," Ginny pleaded. "You know I don't like scrambled eggs!"  
  
"Must have slipped my mind, dear," said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. Ron and Ginny exchanged glances. Ever since the night at the Department of Mysteries, Mrs. Weasley hadn't seemed herself. Even though they had left Grimmauld Place in favor of the Burrow, Ron's mother didn't seem quite in her element.  
  
"So, what's the plan for today?" Ginny asked, heaping her eggs onto Ron's plate, then rolling her eyes as Ron gave her a grateful "Fanks" through a mouthful of food.  
  
"Well, Fred and George are coming home for dinner," said Mrs. Weasley, her expression hard. "Honestly, I don't know what went wrong with those two..." She involuntarily flicked the switch on the Wizarding Wireless, which crackled to life.  
  
"Nothing wrong with them," Ron protested.  
  
"Oh, I know, love," said Mrs. Weasley affectionately. "I wouldn't want them working as anything else right now...it's simply not safe for a wizard anymore."  
  
Ron and Ginny exchanged another glance, before Ron broke the eye contact and expected one of his twin brothers to make a jovial remark right about now. With an odd feeling, he realized that the kitchen was devoid of anyone but himself, his mother and his sister. He was so used to a full table of loud, conversing Weasleys discussing any and all subjects, and now he was left as the oldest male in the house.  
  
Ginny seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "It's really odd, having just the two of us here," she said, spearing her bacon.  
  
"Oh, not really," said Mrs. Weasley. "Have you forgotten all those years it was just you two at home when Fred and George went to Hogwarts?"  
  
"That's different," said Ron immediately.  
  
"Very different," Ginny added.  
  
Mrs. Weasley stopped her bustling around the kitchen. "Oh, if only those days were back," she murmured, wiping her face with her apron.  
  
Ron stared determinedly at his plate, refusing to meet Ginny's worried gaze.  
  
"Mum…we've got a good hold on things, hasn't Dumbledore said so?" Ginny attempted consolation while biting her lip and twirling a long strand of her straight, red hair.  
  
Ron's eyes sloped off his mother's back as she turned to the sink without an answer. His gaze fell instead on the ancient grandfather clock. At present, three hands were pointed at "home," five had stopped at "work," and one was indicating "traveling." Apparently, Charlie was en route to spreading the word to more foreign wizards.  
  
Ron suddenly became much more aware of the radio. "…In light of the new state of crisis, we ask any willing wizards to report for Auror training…"  
  
Ron frowned. "What station is this?"  
  
"What? Oh, it's your father's special frequency," said Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"What special frequency?"  
  
"Oh, only certain people are authorized to receive radios with this station on them," Mrs. Weasley said absently. "Ministry workers and the like. You haven't noticed it before?"  
  
"No, never," said Ron, baffled.  
  
"Me neither," said Ginny perplexedly. Since when were the Weasleys authorized for special privileges?  
  
"Well we never listen to it, anyway," Mrs. Weasley explained.  
  
The three of them fell silent once more. Ron chanced a glance at Ginny, who was picking at her eggs, seemingly unwilling to ask her mother for something else.  
  
It was odd, but Ginny had changed since the last summer. Ron wasn't sure what to make of having his sister as friend and ally; they had never experienced this type of ordeal in equal positions. For years, Ron had treated her like a little sister that always needed his protection; now, they had undergone a dreadful experience that seriously shattered their reality, and suddenly Ginny was on the same ground as he was. It made him uneasy, knowing that everyone was at the same place; from innocent little sisters to wizened old men.  
  
And above all, it drove Ron crazy that he was kept as in the dark about the situation as both the former and the latter.  
  
"I've got to write Hermione," he said brusquely, before standing and depositing his plate in the sink. Mrs. Weasley made no comment, but Ron could feel Ginny's eyes following his progress up the beaten stairway. His eyes were assailed by sunlight the moment he opened the door to his top-floor room, but after he adjusted for a moment, he walked over to his desk, found a stray piece of parchment and dipped his quill in the ink, then setting it to the parchment.  
  
Hermione,  
  
Talked to Dad about it, and he went to Dumbledore to ask. Dumbledore's saying two things, either you go into some Protection Program and stay with some full wizards, or you and your parents take a holiday somewhere away from all this. It's up to you and your parents. Do what's safer.  
  
Ron  
  
He put his quill down and looked at the brief letter, inwardly kicking himself as he realized how impersonal it sounded. But what more was their to say?  
  
How about, Do what's safer because I don't know what I'd do if I lost you?  
  
Ron frowned, scratching his nose. "Well that's that," he said finally, rolling up the extremely short letter and turning to the twittering minuscule owl in its cage. "Pig, I've got something for Hermione," he said shortly.  
  
Pigwidgeon hooted excitedly as Ron opened his cage, then flew out so exuberantly that he crashed straight into the Chudley Cannon-clad wall. Ron hardly noticed.  
  
There's no sense in trying to get her attention, Ron thought gloomily, his red hair falling softly into his eyes. You've lost your chance…and what would a smart girl like her want a prat like you for, anyway?  
  
But for some reason, he was compelled to unroll the parchment and add a different signature.   
  
It now read, "Love, Ron."  
  
"Here, go," said Ron embarrassedly, as if he were ashamed in front of the owl. Pigwidgeon looked at him with round eyes.  
  
"What are you looking at?" he demanded. Pigwidgeon hooted bracingly and careened out the window. Ron followed him until his form became a dot above the horizon, at which point he heard a yell from downstairs.  
  
"Ron! Mum says we've got to degnome the garden!"  
  
Ron sighed, but did not put up a fight: there was something wrong with Mum these days. He donned his sneakers and proceeded down the stairs.  
  
The day had not yet quite begun as he opened the door to find a deep yellow sunlight skim over his eyes. Ron brought one hand to his forehead and walked around the house to the side, where the vegetable garden patch was located.  
  
One week into the summer and already I'm degnoming. It just doesn't seem right.  
  
And it didn't. Ron had come home from school to find his mother on the verge of a nervous breakdown, insisting that she had to return to her own house right away. Ron was all for being at his comfortable home instead of the musty gloom of Grimmauld Place, but having his mother so distant and reminiscent made him more than uncomfortable. Was this what it was like back in the days before Harry nearly defeated You-Know-Who?  
  
At once, Hermione's voice filled his head, exasperated. "Ron! Why can't you say his name? It's only a NAME!"  
  
"Ron! Stop standing around, we've got to work on our homework after this, Mum says." Ginny stared as if daring him to object. He said nothing.  
  
"All right, then," said Ginny. "I'll work on the other side of the house. We'll meet in the middle, I suppose."  
  
"Sounds fine, Gin." Ron turned to cast his eyes around the garden. He spotted a knobbly-looking creature and attacked it. When he'd swung it out of the way, Ginny had vanished.  
  
It was a wonderful way to forget things. "Get over here, you little blighter," Ron growled at the fifth gnome who was unfortunate enough to have come across him. He seized the gnome by the ankles and began swinging it in circles zealously.  
  
This isn't as hard as it used to be, he thought to himself gleefully. I guess all that Quidditch practice is paying off…  
  
And suddenly, he released the wailing gnome and made a visor out of his hand to keep the sun out of his eyes as he watched the gnome's progress in the air.  
  
"I'm getting a lot better at that," he decided, and crouched low into the shrubbery as he located another unsuspecting gnome. Creeping along silently, he found himself in the perfect position to dive.  
  
"Gotcha!" he cried triumphantly as he grabbed the small, brown creature roughly by the scruff of its neck. "Thought you were going to get away, didn't y – AHH!"  
  
The gnome had sunk its vicious teeth right into one of the thought wounds on Ron's arms.  
  
He was blinded by a dazzlingly white flash. His vision was clouded…and he looked around to find himself in an unfamiliar house. Walking forward, he threw open the door and saw a young woman with dark red hair, clutching a black-crowned baby to herself.  
  
"Ginny?" Ron said in wonder, but what came out of his mouth was a voice not his own, and it said, "Move away, Mudblood." He felt his arm rise – a wand was inside it –   
  
"Not Harry!" the woman who resembled Ginny shrieked. "Please not Harry! Take me instead, take me!"  
  
FLASH.  
  
Eyes wide, Ron looked around himself. The room had vanished – he was back in his front yard. A little knobbly creature was sprinting away, chuckling to himself. Ron stared at his hand in disbelief – a hand devoid of any wand whatsoever.  
  
"Ron!" He heard his sister calling frantically. "Ron, did you scream? Why?"  
  
Is that…was that…Harry? And his…mum? Ron felt numb. He stood still for a moment, but suddenly felt something stir restlessly within him. Horrified, he let out a yelp, but the unknown presence subsided. Thoroughly shaken, he stood staring at the grass, mystified, ignoring Ginny's presence.  
  
He felt Ginny shaking him. "Ron!" she cried. "What's the matter? What happened?"  
  
"Ron! Ginny!" came Mrs. Weasley's voice. "I've got some biscuits for you." Her plump figure appeared in the doorway. "What's the matter, dears?"  
  
"Nothing, Mum," Ron managed. His mother turned to go inside once more.  
  
"What is it?" Ginny whispered urgently.  
  
"I'll tell you…when we're alone," he answered in a low voice.  
  
Ginny watched him carefully. He paid her no attention as he walked dazedly into his home, so consumed in his own disbelief that he didn't notice the brown owl soaring toward him.  
  
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More interesting stuff to come in the next chapter, i PROMISE. this was kind of a lead-in, I suppose. So I beg of you, REVIEW. I need all the help I can get. I love it so much when people leave encouraging reviews. And it takes so little! Just click the button...the one right there, in the lower-left corner...thaaaat's it...maneuver your mouse a little more...thanks!  
  
Love,  
  
Renny B 


	2. Time to Gather One's Head

A/N. Well hello again! Thank you to EVERYONE for leaving such great reviews. I tried and tried to write an acceptable 2nd chapter, but I always had to go back and erase something, add something else. The story WILL get more interesting. And for those of you die-hard R/Hr fans such as myself, Hermione's coming in the next chapter!  
  
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The benign smile was slowly creeping off Mrs. Weasley's face. "Ronald and Virginia Weasley, I demand to know what is going on."  
  
"Nothing, Mum," said Ron in a strangled sort of voice as he stumbled into the house, Ginny at his heels. He remembered just in time to grab a fluffy biscuit before splinting up to his room and slamming the door.  
  
He fell back onto his bed just in time to hear his mother saying, "All the boys were like that at his age," causing him to cringe. He stared at the ceiling, willing his heart to stop pounding and his goosebumps to disappear. When he was sufficiently calm, Ron sat up, then ran a worried hand through his hair.  
  
What was that all about? he thought, mystified.  
  
A knock came at the door. "Ron, can I come in?"  
  
"Yes," Ron managed, and his sister threw the door open. She stood watching him for a moment, before asking suspiciously, "What is wrong with you?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Ron said quickly. How much HAD Ginny noticed?  
  
"Well first of all, you screamed outside and then acted all - funny - when I found you," said Ginny, her hands on her hips. "And now you didn't even say something like 'Oh, you remember to knock this time?' And," she added, "You haven't even LOOKED at the owl that just arrived, and I bet it's from Hemione."  
  
"Hermione?" Ron leapt at the owl that sat comfortably on Ginny's shoulder that he had failed to noticed earlier. "Whose owl is this?" he said distractedly as he ripped the cord tying the parchment.  
  
"Hermione's parents gave it to her, I don't know why," said Ginny slowly. "She named it Athena - Ron! Are you trying to change the subject?"  
  
Ron paid her no attention.  
  
Dear Ron,  
  
  
  
I've discussed it with my parents that even if we go somewhere, Death Eaters will be able to find us, and I wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy has told his father to target my family and myself especially. It's better to stay with an able family of wizards, wouldn't you agree? So I was wondering...I'd rather stay with a familiar family. Would your mother object to having me this summer? Just for protection? And of course, I'd love to visit with you and Ginny as usual. If it's alright, may I come tomorrow?  
  
Love,  
  
Hermione  
  
Tomorrow.  
  
"Ron!" said Ginny angrily, stamping her foot, causing the ghoul in the attic to howl with rage.  
  
Ron snapped out of his reverie. "What? What?"  
  
Ginny pointed furiously at his violently orange bed. "I demand," she said imperiously, "That you sit down and tell me what just went on in the backyard there."  
  
Ron put his hand to his forehead and opened his mouth, but did not sit down. "I think I...had a vision," he said lamely.  
  
Ginny drew in a sharp breath. "What do you mean, you had a vision?"  
  
"A gnome," said Ron. "A gnome bit one of my thought wounds, and then I - wasn't in the garden anymore. I was someone else. And there was some woman there. I thought she was you at first, she had the same hair...but she was holding a baby. And she called the baby Harry. And then I...I killed her," said Ron, finishing in a whisper.  
  
Ginny covered her mouth with her hand. "Ron, that...that sounds as if it were Voldemort murdering Harry's mum," said Ginny weakly.  
  
"Why would I be having visions where I was You-Know-Who murdering Harry's mum? Hey - wait a minute! You called You-Know-Who by his name!" said Ron, momentarily forgetting what had just happened.  
  
"Yes," said Ginny firmly. "I spoke to Professor Dumbledore about it. I've seen better than anyone that Voldemort is just human. He was a child once too. No, Ron," she said, going back on-topic, "Why would you have visions where you were Voldemort...unless the brain that attacked you really did BELONG to Voldemort?"  
  
"Hang on!" said Ron excitedly. "What if - no, wait for it - what if the Ministry somehow - I dunno - got hold of You-Know-Who's brain? And they were keeping it to...dissect it or something. Learn who his Death Eaters were, and who he killed, stuff like that."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Ginny, reminding him shockingly of Hermione...in a good way. Ron's face turned red, but Ginny didn't notice. "Voldemort can't just be up and walking around without a brain - "  
  
"No, that's just it!" Ron interrupted. "Harry told us last year that You-Know-Who CREATED a body for himself! That wasn't his original body...maybe...no, listen...Okay, the night that he attacked Harry, his curse hit him instead, right? Well, he turned into a spirit, right? So what happened to his body? When you do Avada Kedavra on someone, their body's still there. Maybe when the Ministry got there, they found You-Know-Who's body and took his brain to inspect it!"  
  
"That is so farfetched," said Ginny. "But I can't say it isn't possible..."  
  
"Good thing Hermione's coming tomorrow," said Ron. "She'll tell us if it is."  
  
And at that moment, Ron noticed something: the person he was discussing this with was his younger sister. Not Harry. Not Hermione. Not even Fred or George - it was Ginny. Ginny, saying You-Know-Who's name, and wondering if the offending brain had belonged to him. Ginny, who was suddenly somehow very much his ally, as if she had been discovering evil plots with Harry, Hermione and himself all her life. It felt weird - but at the same time, it felt right.  
  
"Alright. Gin," Ron said, turning to look at his sister. "Take this letter downstairs and show Mum, tell her that Hermione's coming to stay with us. And nothing else," he warned.  
  
"Please, Ron. I'm not stupid," she said coolly. "I did, after all, survive the same battle that you did. With a lot less scars." She turned on her heels, sniffed, and walked out, leaving Ron to stare numbly at the door.  
  
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A/N. Mmkay well, I promise the next chapter's coming soon. And that it'll be longer; I'm sorry this one's so short. I'm on a bit of a roll here - probably within the next week or two, you can expect Hermione's arrival. But I shall warn you - I am willing to beg and bribe for reviews. As in - I BEG you to review, and will not post the next chapter until there are at least five. Enjoy this chapter, and don't forget to tell me if you did!  
  
Love,  
  
Renee 


	3. Unexpected Arrival

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, all the characters in this chapter - with the exception of Mrs. Radicker - belong to the phenomenal goddess we know as J.K. Rowling.  
  
A/N - Well, this update is definitely took less time than the last one. But what can I say? I was so encouraged by the fact that it's only two chapters, yet everyone is enjoying it so much! Well I guarantee that you're in store for a lot more interesting events. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! You know, every time you review, an angel gets its wings. I swear.  
  
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A muffled voice came through Ron's heavy oak door.  
  
"Ron. Mum says your supper's waiting."  
  
Ron stood up and walked over to his door, then jerked it open in one swift motion. Ginny's pretty face looked up at him, and for a moment he was struck anew by how small he was. "Okay," he said simply, and followed her down the stairs.  
  
"Sit down, dears," said Mrs. Weasley distractedly as she bustled out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Ron and Ginny frowned after her, but sat down silently to their plates of hearty stew. Ron couldn't say much for this new state of silent awkwardness that had descended upon the Weasley household, but times were indeed changing.  
  
The moment he speared a chunk of meat, Ron heard a familiar, faint "clink," and his eyes immediately sloped over to the large grandfather clock. The hand displaying the engraved name of ARTHUR had suddenly swung to Traveling, and in a split second flew over to Home.  
  
"Molly? Ron? Ginny?" called a voice from the entrance.  
  
"In the kitchen, Dad," Ginny called. The outline of their father materialized suddenly in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling serenely, but Ron could detect a few faint lines of weariness.  
  
"Where's your mum?" asked Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Dunno," said Ginny.  
  
Ron felt like screaming - the total lack of any sort of conversation was stifling, deafening, and Ron was chafing under it.  
  
"How was work?" he asked instead.  
  
"Oh, you know, the usual," said Mr. Weasley. "Well - not really, to tell the truth. Fudge is actually considering charming Muggle objects to be used as weapons, such as arrows and whatnot, and of course it's to be assigned to my department...quite the opposite of its intent, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"But you've got more than enough experience in that department, don't you, Dad?" asked Ginny slyly.  
  
"Yes, well," Arthur blustered, "I suppose I do."  
  
"Arthur! When did you get home?"  
  
"Just a moment ago, Molly dear," said Mr. Weasley, and ducked his head to peck his wife on the cheek.  
  
"Well, don't just stand there," said Mrs. Weasley, gesturing towards his seat at the scrubbed wooden table. "Sit down, before your stew gets cold."  
  
Mr. Weasley sat down appreciatively and heaped a large amount of stew onto his plate. "So, what's new around the house?"  
  
"We degnomed the garden today," supplied Ron. "And Hermione's to arrive tomorrow."  
  
"Funny," said Mrs. Weasley, though from her tone Ron knew to brace himself for something that wasn't funny at all. "It's the first time that Hermione's coming over and she won't have to bunk up with Ginny...she has her choice of bedrooms."  
  
"Your mum and I were discussing the other day whether or not we should add Harry and Hermione to our clock," said Mr. Weasley.  
  
"As if there's any room on it!" Ginny joked, before putting her fork of mashed potatoes into her mouth.  
  
"Don't be funny," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd be much more content at home knowing where Harry and Hermione are. They're like second children to us, after all."  
  
"You never needed to put any of Bill's friends onto the clock, or Charlie's, or Percy's," said Ron. "And Lee Jordan isn't on there, either."  
  
"Well, all their friends are grown up now, and like it or not, they're going to have to take care of themselves...in the upcoming war. Whereas Harry has no parents to speak of, and Hermione's parents can't do much to fight You-Know-Who as dentists."  
  
Ron gaped, but his mother merely added a large spoon of mashed potatoes to her plate. Ginny was staring at their mother in equal awe, both for her bluntness and for her breach of the topic they'd worked so hard not to discuss. Ron decided wisely to ignore it.  
  
"Well, I'm sure that Harry and Hermione would appreciate being included in our family a bit more officially," Ginny offered.  
  
Ron remained silent, poking his food around.  
  
As the dinner turned to more diurnal topics ("Really, my arms are tired from swinging those great gnomes about, can't we buy some repellant?" "Virginia Weasley, we've been through this before, gnome repellant doesn't come for free!") Ron was beginning to wonder what was wrong with the world, where the most terrible war perhaps ever was about to begin and families weren't speaking of preparations, no, they were discussing household pests. Finally, Mr. Weasley stood and stretched his arms before saying, "Well, you lot, I'm going to retire for a moment, perhaps do some reading. It really has been a long day."  
  
"Ron, dearest, would you mind putting the dishes away? I'll charm them to wash later." Mrs. Weasley seemed eager to follow her husband back to his room, making Ron scowl inside - he knew that his mother would soon receive all the necessary information about the goings-on of the wizarding world, while he himself was forced to clear the dinner table.  
  
"I'll sweep the floor," Ginny volunteered. At that moment, Ron thought quite highly of his sister - under any other circumstances, Ginny would not have offered to clean anything, would rather take a Potions test with Snape. But Ron himself could see that his mother was on the edge of...something. Time with Arthur might ease her tenseness a bit.  
  
Ginny disappeared into the hall closet to fetch a broom and dutifully began to sweep the floor around the kitchen. Ron took two plates and deposited them in the sink and returned to the table to grab a few more. But the moment he reached the sink a second time, Ron heard the door fly open, followed by a crash which could only be Ginny dropping her broom.  
  
Ron swiveled sharply to see the intruder, and the sight of the person in the hallway was enough to make him drop the plate in his right hand.  
  
"Hermione?" Ginny said hoarsely. "What are you doing here."  
  
Ron stared dumbly.  
  
"Ron? Ginny? RON! GINNY!" Mrs. Weasley's screeches from upstairs grew louder as Ron's parents thundered down the steps. Mrs. Weasley screeched to a halt at the sight of the fifteen year-old girl.  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione faintly, her voice tentative and trembling. "I'm sorry...to have come...a day early...but...I really...had no alternative." And with that, she swayed and stumbled.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron leapt at her, and caught her just before she fell.  
  
"Dizzy," Hermione managed. "Weak..."  
  
Ron immediately lifted her into his arms and carried Hermione over to the couch. His parents and sister immediately fled to crowd around the girl on the bed.  
  
"Hermione! What happened?" Ron said urgently.  
  
"There was...an attack," Hermione whispered, her eyes wide and fearful, tears brimming at the sides of them. "I only just got away..."  
  
Ron was looking intently at his friend. Her skin was waxy and pale, and made Ron shiver.  
  
"You can explain later," Mrs. Weasley suddenly said imperiously. "Ron, fix Hermione a cup of tea. Ginny, take her coat off." She rounded on her husband. "Arthur, immediately Floo - "  
  
"Dumbledore," Arthur finished for her. "Yes, right on it, dear."  
  
Mrs. Weasley seemed to be in her element. "Hermione, dear, are you hurt anywhere?"  
  
Hermione nodded, wincing. "My side," she whispered.  
  
But there was no need for her words, for Ginny had just successfully removed Hermione's jacket, and a dark spot of blood was visible through the gray of Hermione's Muggle turtleneck.  
  
Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Merlin!" she hurried to fetch, presumably, a first aid kit.  
  
Ginny was looking at her friend in horror. "What was it?"  
  
"Gash Charm," said Hermione. "I don't know who it was...under a mask...I Apparated illegally..."  
  
"You what?!" Ginny said angrily. "What do you mean, you Apparated illegally?"  
  
"I was...studying...the theory...and there was no other escape...saw my parents to safety...out the fireplace...Mrs. Radicker's house...closest wizard in our area...Floo evacuation zone...but...they attacked her house...fireplace collapsed...I was all alone...I couldn't do anything else...they cut me..." Hermione struggled to finish her sentence, but Ginny merely made gentle protests until she subsided.  
  
Ron's heart slammed into his feet and his blood ran cold. 'I couldn't do anything else...they cut me...' He busied himself with the kettle.  
  
Mrs. Weasley as she reappeared with what looked to be a magical first aid kit. "That's alright, dearest, it sounds like you did the right thing," soothed Mrs Weasley, as she lifted Hermione's sweater and began to apply a magical salve from a violently pink bottle. Ron blushed as he caught sight of a white brassiere. She's just been attacked, you prat, he scolded himself disgustedly.  
  
"Here's your tea," he said awkwardly.  
  
"Not right now, Ron," said Ginny impatiently, gesturing toward Hermione, whose eyes had finally closed while Mrs. Weasley was tending the long, slender gash in her side.  
  
"Right," said Ron, and set the tea upon the table.   
  
Mr. Weasley appeared at the bottom of the staircase. "Dumbledore knows," he said wearily. "Apparently the Death Eaters - without You-Know-Who - decided to attack an area that had a high population of wizard-Muggle marriages...apparently, in their eyes a wizard who stoops so low as to marry a Muggle is as bad as a Muggle born...they've obviously never met the likes of Hermione," Mr. Weasley added fondly. "Dumbledore says her parents and old Mrs.Radicker appeared at the Floo Evacuation point, saying how quick Hermione was on the uptake, shepherding her family to safety. They were extremely relieved to know she was alright."  
  
"I can only imagine," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice shaking. "Well, she's here now. They can be sure we'll take care of her."  
  
"I told Dumbledore as much," Mr. Weasley said firmly. "He said he'd pass it on to the Grangers. They're going to stay at Floo Evacuation until we can be sure there will be no further attacks...Maybe they might be able to come here for a spell?"  
  
"Of course," said Mrs. Weasley, without hesitation, and Ron was softened to see that his parents' goodness even extended to Hermione's non-magical parents.  
  
Suddenly, Hermione stirred. "My parents!" she gasped. "Are they alright?"  
  
"Yes, dear!" cried Mrs. Weasley, rushing to Hermione's side. "You got them to the fire, and they're at Floo Evacuation right now, being served cocoa and biscuits. They're fine, and...and so are you."  
  
"Thank you," Hermione whispered, before closing her eyes in obvious pain. Ron gripped the back of the chair in front of him very hard.  
  
"Muggle-wizard marriages," he growled. "Those Death Eaters were there for a reason - to get Hermione. Why else would they have chased her and Gashed her?"  
  
"Ron! Enough!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Ginny, please fetch a blanket and nightgown for Hermione. Ron, up to bed. I daresay you'll be wanting to write someone a letter."  
  
Ron blanched, and then understood. Harry.  
  
Reluctant as he was to leave Hermione's side, Ron trooped up the stairs and closed the door to his room. He sat down in the chair, his quill poised midair. Here he was, upstairs, writing a letter, while a pale, weak Hermione was on the couch. But Harry had to be told.  
  
And so, he began to write his letter, rather than let Harry find it out from anyone else.  
  
***********  
  
Harry,  
  
I don't know how to say this, but Hermione just showed up to our house. From what she said, it's like a bunch of Death Eaters attacked her neighborhood. She got her mum and dad to a Floo Evacuation point, the the house collapsed all about her and a Death Eater did a Gashing Charm on her. She Apparated over here and now she's asleep. Mum says she'll be right okay, but she thought you ought to know. Tell me how you're doing.  
  
Ron  
  
***********  
  
Ron sat back heavily in his chair. He stared at his parchment for a moment then, in a matter-of-fact manner, rolled it up and tied it with twine. "Take it to Harry," he addressed Pigwidgeon gruffly, who had even been reduced to near-silence by the look on Ron's face when he entered the room. "And don't dally."  
  
Pigwidgeon nodded determinedly and zoomed out the window. Ron immediately headed for the door and crept down the stairs. His parents had retired to their bedroom, and Ginny had locked herself into her own room. Hermione was sleeping quite peacefully.  
  
Ron quietly headed to the kitchen and grabbed a small washcloth from the counter. He ran it under the tap, squeezed it out, and tiptoed over to where Hermione slept. He leaned over her, intending to place the compress on her forehead, when suddenly Hermione's eyes half-opened. "Ron? Is that you?"  
  
"It's me, Hermione," he said quietly, brushing the bushy hair from her face. Hermione smiled and dropped back into sleep. Ron's gut seemed to be twisted as he put the towel onto her forehead.  
  
And in the moment before he drew away, with brown curls framing her face and her pink lips slightly parted, Ron thought that she looked like an angel.  
  
-------------------------------  
  
A/N - hehe, well, i hope that's slightly more interesting. But I swear - and I mean it - this is JUST the beginning. My head is just brimming with ideas, and I can't WAIT to post it all for you loyal readers. So...to the tune of the chorus of Rod Stewart's classic, "If you want my body":  
  
If you liked this story,  
  
And you want the next part,  
  
Come on, baby, please review!  
  
It makes me so happy,  
  
Makes me want to write more,  
  
Which is even better for you!  
  
Whoooaaaaa...Nanananana Review! Nanananana Review! Whooooooaaaaaa...Nanananana Review! Nanananana Review!  
  
If you think I'm awesome,  
  
Or you want to toss me,  
  
Leave it in a review please!  
  
Tell me if you like it,  
  
Or if I should change,  
  
Babe I'm on my hands and knees!  
  
Review, Review! Sugar! Review, Review! Sugar!  
  
LOL. I haven't been able to get that song out of my head for days. Anyway, in case you missed the point: please review! And the reward for your time is an update in the near future. See you all soon! 


	4. Hermione's Impetus

NONE OF THESE ARE MINE! Which may or may not be true for the next chapter...wink wink  
  
---------------------------------  
  
A/N - WOW! Thanks for all the super-amazing reviews. I really do apologize that this chapter has taken SO long, but do tell that to my five honors and 2 AP classes. I'd like to take this short space to thank everyone who left such wonderfully encouraging reviews! Sometimes if I don't feel that someone is waiting for my story to continue, i'll drop it for a while. Now to answer some questions.  
  
1. Yes, there will be some Harry/Ginny later on. I happen to be a firm believer in the traditional ships!  
  
2. I was rereading The Book of Morgan Le Fey and suddenly realized that in both stories, Ron is having visions. The infamous LavenderBrown even once said, "Madam Pomfrey said I'd have scars...you know, the ones I can't see?" I am SO sorry if anyone thought I was stealing ideas or something, but this story is SOOOOO different. You can't even imagine how different. Also, i'm pretty sure it's going to finish at the end of their summer. I'll think about writing a continuation of the 6th year at school sometime later.  
  
3. This chapter is a Hermione interlude. I'm pretty sure that there will later be a Harry interlude and a Ginny interlude, spaced out evenly. Just to spice things up a bit.  
  
4. Everyone is saying I've got Ron down right, but I'm still a little iffy about him. Let's just say he's weird because of the battle and the stifling normality of his household. Also, please give me ideas about what the ministry should be doing right now? I obviously have things planned, but suggestions are ALWAYS welcome. And not just about that, about anything.   
  
5. It would really help if someone told me how to make things italic. I'm using Notepad. And, my author's note is really long.  
  
So without further ado:  
  
----------------------------------  
  
Chapter 4 - Hermione Interlude  
  
She opened her eyes and immediately the streaming, cold sunlight practically seared them. Rolling over, Hermione groped for the alarm clock on her bedside table, before she realized that there WAS no alarm clock, it WASN'T ringing, and the bedside table wasn't standing there.  
  
Suddenly her eyes focused. Taking in her surroundings, she realized she was in the Weasley's living room. Her gaze traveled toward the ancient grandfather clock, where she saw that the hand labeled HERMIONE was pointing toward HOME -  
  
"What?" Hermione sat up quickly, then winced in pain and clutched her side. Why was she on the clock?  
  
"Oh, good morning, Hermione dear," said Mrs. Weasley as she shuffled down the stairs in a white terrycloth bathrobe and matching white slippers. "How are you feeling, dearest?"  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she said, rubbing smooth circles on the sore spot in her side. "It's feeling much better."  
  
Mrs. Weasley stopped. "And you, dear? How are YOU?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "I'm fine...I'm glad my parents are safe. I just wish that I could be up and about and DOING something. About...the war. You know."  
  
Mrs. Weasley sighed, and she seemed to droop within her robe. "I know, dear, it must be hard being underage right now. But that's what we're all doing. Preparing, and...waiting. Would you like some breakfast?"  
  
"Oh, of course," said Hermione, throwing the blanket off and taking in the information that she was wearing Ginny's clothes. Mrs. Weasley seemed to think along the same lines as she added, "If you can, go wake up Ginny and Ron, and ask Ginny for some clothes."  
  
"I can," said Hermione, determined. She gingerly stood and found that the pain in her side had gone back to its usual dull ache, the souvenir of Dolohov's curse. Rompius Nitalis, Hermione thought to herself, wincing once more at the sounds of the words in her head. Though he had been silent, Hermione had later found out which curse exactly her attacker had cast and studied its effects. She knew that the pain in her ribs wouldn't go away for a while.  
  
She took a few tentative steps, and was pleased to find that she could walk perfectly normally. Mrs. Weasley stopped moving ceaselessly around the kitchen in order to watch her progress appraisingly. When satisfied that no harm would come to Hermione, she went back to her cooking.  
  
Taking one step at a time, she finally made it up to Ginny's room and opened the door.  
  
"Ginny? Your mum told me to wake you up," she said in a regular tone.  
  
Ginny's eyes fluttered open. She took one surly look at Hermione, groaned and rolled over.  
  
"I'll just take some clothes, then," Hermione volunteered. She proceeded carefully to Ginny's bureau and opened the drawer she knew to contain Ginny's muggle clothing.  
  
'Tut, tut,' Hermione thought disapprovingly. Ginny's clothes weren't nearly as conservative as her own. Hermione settled for the least-offensive shirts and shorts she could find, slipped out of the nightgown and donned them.  
  
'Now to wake Ron,' she thought to herself as she shut the door to the sounds of Ginny's stirring. 'In these clothes,' she thought mischievously, and then caught herself. People had died last night, and she was thinking about what Ron would say about her rather revealing - well, for HER anyway - outfit.  
  
She reached Ron's bedroom door and studied the carved wooden sign hanging on it which read, RON. Who had carved that sign? She must remember to question Ginny about it. It looked so old, fascinating in a way that only ancient things could be.  
  
'It can't be that ancient,' she suddenly realized. 'Ron IS only sixteen.'  
  
She turned the doorknob and walked into Ron's room, nearly snorting at all of Ron's belongings, the majority of which were strewn on the floor. Ron was lying on his back, his mouth slightly open and arms splayed. Hermione stopped and was struck by how CUTE Ron looked for some reason.  
  
'Enough!' she scolded herself.  
  
"Ron? Ron, your mum wants me to wake you," Hermione began.  
  
Ron rolled onto his side, eyes still closed. "Alright, Ginny, I'm up!" he moaned, and his eyes opened.  
  
And got wider.  
  
"Hermione!" he yelled, completely caught off guard. He sat up instantly and his covers fell down, revealing a very sculpted, though very pale torso.  
  
Hermione stood there dumbly while Ron noticed his lack of shirt, flushing. "What're you - what're you doing here?"  
  
"Your mum told me to wake you," she said matter-of-factly, trying to hide her own steadily increasingly pink cheeks.  
  
"Oh...er...oh! Hermione! Are you all right?"  
  
Hermione put her hands on her hips, then sighed. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking. Now I'd like to talk to you..."  
  
"About what?" said Ron, puzzled. He suddenly realized how ridiculous his hair must look and hastily threw a hand up to flatten it.   
  
"I've been thinking about Voldemort. You can change while I talk," she said, walking over to sit on his bed as he vacated it.   
  
"What about You-Know-Who?" said Ron, pleased to finally be getting the subject out in the open.  
  
"Well, he's been gone for what, 15 years? Do you expect him to just settle for ENGLAND after waiting so long? No, there's something missing," said Hermione thoughtfully. Ron knew she had put a lot of thought into whatever she was about to say and marveled.  
  
"So what are you saying?" he said as he pulled on an extremely old T-Shirt of Charlie's that had a dragon printed on it.   
  
"Well," said Hermione, noting subconsciously how GOOD Ron looked with his hair tousled up that way, "Why did Voldemort gain so much power last time? Why didn't any of the other countries ally themselves with England in order to stamp him out? Something doesn't feel right, so I did some research."  
  
Ron didn't roll his eyes - by now he was interested, not to mention grateful that Hermione wasn't paying all that much attention to his striped boxers...or anything IN them. The hair stood up on the back of his neck at the thought.  
  
"And what I found out," Hermione continued, oblivious to Ron's inner-monologue, "Is that the rest of the world just refused to get involved. They invoked some sort of wizard defense that states that unless the threat crossed into their 'Wizard Sector' - and they have the world divided into about thirty wizard sectors - the rest of the wizarding population can stand by and do nothing."  
  
"Alright, so?" Ron concentrated  
  
"So," said Hermione, with a deep breath. "Fudge and Britain just aren't READY for another war against Voldemort. They simply aren't prepared, lack resources. What we need to do is get other wizards to help us."  
  
"Hermione, you only JUST said that they won't get involved with another sector thing," said Ron.  
  
"Right. But the magical defense - its proper name is Sectori Yanassus, by the way - DID say that they would be forced to enter the war if they were attacked."  
  
"So you're planning to have You-Know-Who attack a bunch of innocent people so that...so that LESS innocent people will die? Hermione, that doesn't make sense."  
  
Hermione looked anxious as she twirled one of her brown curls around her fingers. "I know...but how else are we supposed to win this war?"  
  
Her eyes were shining, and Ron suddenly was regretful for attacking her. "Well it's as good an idea as any. How are you going to get You-Know-Who to attack another Sector?"  
  
"I'd imagine it would involve some sort of trap," said Hermione thoughtfully. "You know, I only figured this all out yesterday, so I thought we'd maybe send a letter to Dumbledore about it."  
  
Ron shook his head. "Owls get intercepted, remember?"  
  
Hermione's face fell. "You're right, of course." She looked around the room as if someone were missing. "We can't even tell HARRY about it."  
  
Ron's face burned. Oh, imagine that, he thought bitterly. Hermione should just tell the bloke how she feels and get it over with.  
  
"Maybe," Hermione mused pensively, once again overlooking Ron's emotional turmoil, "We could campaign to other countries that they have to get involved. It would be like the Second World War. Places like the States could send resources - not necessarily troops, but resources."  
  
"What? Like wizard contraband?" Ron was interested again.  
  
"Oh, of course." Hermione was nodding fervently. "There are many types of wizard weapons that can be manufactured. I have quite a fascinating book on it actually, right in my bedroom - "  
  
She stopped short, catching herself, and Ron could see she was suddenly fighting back tears. Alarmed, he wondered the sudden change of mood, and was about to blame it on what Mum and Ginny always called 'ladies' problems' when he realized that Hermione's house had been attacked. All her belongings were probably demolished - childhood relics, familiar furniture, all gone for no conceivable reason.  
  
Awkwardly, Ron put a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she leaned her head into the crook of his shoulder, her bushy but soft hair brushing against his neck. Hermione sat staring numbly at the floor, tears streaming silently down her rosy cheeks.  
  
"We have to do something about it," she whispered. "Next time I might not walk away with just a scratch and a lost bedroom."  
  
"You're right," Ron said absently, inhaling the scent of her hair. Suddenly his mind unfogged and he began to have confidence in his words. "No, you're right. We can't just sit back and let scared grownups try to defend everyone. We need to help out, somehow."  
  
"But ho-" Hermione's rhetorical question was interrupted when the door flew open and Ginny barreled in.  
  
"Ron, what is-" Ginny stopped short and gaped open-mouthed at her brother and friend on the bed. Too late, Hermione and Ron sprang apart, both blushing furiously. A piece of parchment snapped back and forth in her left hand.  
  
"What's that, Ginny?" said Hermione in a high voice.  
  
Ginny looked from one to the other and decided not to comment, opting instead to continue on her errand. "I've just got this letter from Harry. He says that Dumbledore apparently told him what happened in Hermione's neighborhood, and decided it really wasn't safe for him in an unsuspecting Muggle neighborhood after all. He's still susceptible to regular attacks from Death Eaters."  
  
"What does that mean?" asked Hermione. Ron's anger flared. Oh, now that Harry's the subject, we're so interested? he thought to himself bitterly.  
  
"It means he's going to go stay with Professor Lupin. At Grimmauld Place." Ginny bit her lip.  
  
A moment of silence followed their pronouncement.  
  
"Is he mad?" said Ron, seriously questioning Dumbledore's sanity.  
  
Hermione readily agreed with him. "Whyever would he send Harry to a place where all he'll be able to think about is Sirius?"  
  
Ginny reread a part of the letter. "He also says that since the Order is still holding meetings there, he'll have to come stay with us whenever something's going on. Which will probably be often," Ginny added. Ron could tell that she had wanted to add the word "hopefully" to this last statement. Harry's just getting ALL the girls, isn't he, Ron thought to himself. Wait a minute.  
  
"Hang on," Ron protested. "Why is Harry writing to you, anyway?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"Oh, please, Ron," said Ginny, waving an irritable hand. "I was in the battle right alongside the three of you, and so were Neville and Luna. We have to stay in touch with each other. Who but us knows better what we're facing now?"  
  
"You're right, Ginny," said Hermione, laying a gentle hand on Ron's arm.  
  
And at that moment, Ron's eyes unfocused.  
  
FLASH.  
  
A heavy mahogany door was flying open in front of him. He strode forward purposefully into what appeared to be an extravagant dining room. His vision was clouded, but Ron could make out the hazy figures of two men and a woman. Now he was raising his arm, clenching a familiar wand in his fingers. The three figures were shrieking and running away, but all Ron could hear was a terrifying buzzing sound in his ears. He opened his mouth and out came an unsettling, unnaturally high cackle of laughter.   
  
"Why hello, Riddles," said Ron Weasley in a voice not his own. "I think I've solved you."  
  
FLASH.  
  
"RON!" Hermione cried desperately, her face swimming above his. "Ron, are you alright? Please tell me you're alright."  
  
How did I get on the floor? Ron wondered briefly. He looked at Hermione and his sister quizzically before sitting up.  
  
"What just happened?" Hermione said, on the verge of hysterics. "Ron, I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice I was touching your wound, and - "  
  
"Shh," Ron said. "I'm trying to remember...three people...RIDDLES! I've got it."  
  
"Ron. Would you mind telling us WHAT IS GOING ON?" said Ginny, hands on her hips. "This is what happened in the garden the other day, isn't it? Was that another vision?"  
  
Hermione turned to him, wide-eyed. "You're having visions? Of what? When?"  
  
"Yesterday, when a gnome bit my gashes," said Ron, a hand on his forehead. "But what with everyone that happened, I never got a chance to tell you."  
  
"What were your visions of?" Hermione prompted.  
  
"Well, yesterday, it was like I was in someone else's body. I walked into a room and there was this woman on the floor, I thought she was Ginny, with the red hair. She had a baby she called Harry...I called her a Mudblood," Ron said, cringing.  
  
"That sounds like Harry's mum," said Hermione quietly.  
  
"We've figured that out already," said Ginny wearily. "Ron's got a brilliant theory on the subject."  
  
"There's only one person that could have done that," said Hermione.  
  
"You-Know-Who," said Ron, pleased with his and Ginny's prior deduction.  
  
"But that sounds as if it were in the past, if Harry was a baby. What did you see just now?"   
  
"I was walking into a room again," said Ron dutifully, "But this time it was a big dining room. There were three people inside, I couldn't see them too well...I started laughing...I called them some kind of riddle, and said I'd...solved them...can't remember..."  
  
"That must be Voldemort killing his father and grandparents," said Hermione, rigid.  
  
"And both times it was when something touched his thought-wounds," Ginny put in.  
  
"Hermione," said Ron. "Do you know if...do you know if it's possible to somehow...I dunno, take out a person's brain and pick it apart, look through their memories to find things out about them?"  
  
"Oh of course," said Hermione. "Ancient Egyptian wizards, when mummifying a body, would actually extract the brain the through the nose and preserve it in order to perform Inspection charms on them. They could figure out if Kings had been just, who had been robbing tombs. Instructions on how to do it were found in the form of runes on one of the pyramids. But what does that have to do with it?"  
  
Ron and Ginny sat, stunned. "You mean, I actually made something up that's TRUE?" Ron said, dumbstruck.  
  
Hermione looked to Ginny for an explanation. "Ron figures that when Harry bounced Voldemort's curse back onto him, his spirit left his body, which is why he had to make himself a new one. But his actual old body still remained. He said that the wizards might have taken the brain out of Voldemort's body so they could maybe figure out who was dead, who was alive, and who was a Death Eater. But I didn't think it could be known FACT that this was possible." Ginny still looked dazed.  
  
"Of course," Hermione breathed. "Ron...that's BRILLIANT."  
  
"It is?"  
  
"Yes, it is. Just because it was an ancient custom doesn't mean it's not still practiced today...why else would they be keeping brains in the Department of Mysteries? Oh," Hermione was wringing her hands agitatedly, "If only I had my Ancient Runes textbook, I'd be able to decipher it - "  
  
"I've got an Ancient Runes textbook," Ginny interrupted her.  
  
"Wait one second!" Ron broke in. "Have we decided if these Voldemort memories are a good thing or not? Should I be poking my wounds, trying to have more of them?"  
  
"Don't do anything for now," Hermione said reasonably. "Besides, the wizards at the Department of Mysteries must have already picked apart his brain. Unless there was some sort of protective charm around it...hmm..."  
  
"Best leave it alone, for now," Ginny advised. "It gets quite annoying after a while to lose whole periods of time from every day."  
  
Ron bit back his annoyed "How would you know?" just in time as the three of them headed to Ginny's room.  
  
------------------------------  
  
A/N. Ah, well I hope you liked that. The plot IS going somewhere. Thank EVERYONE so much for all the wonderful reviews, once again. I confess I really want to continue this story, but midterms and SATs are at the end of this month, and I'll only be able to write in my spare time. Until then...REVIEW!  
  
Love,  
  
Renee! 


	5. System Overload

DISCLAIMER – Harry? Hermione? Anyone with a surname of Weasley? Not mine.

A/N – well, it has most certainly been a long time since my last update. But recently someone rediscovered my other fic, New Beginnings and Old Wounds, and left reviews that kind of revitalized my interest in it. As a result, I began thinking once more of all that I had had planned for Hidden Scars – and this is the result. Enjoy the next chapter of…

--------------------  
Hidden Scars  
--------------------

Chapter 5

"Are you sure it'll be in here, Hermione?" asked Ginny as she handed the Ancient Runes textbook to her friend.

"Well, no," said Hermione uneasily, "But it's worth a try, isn't it?" She began flipping through the pages restlessly. "Oh, here it is," she said at last. Her eyes quickly scanned the passage, and then she looked up.

"No…it doesn't tell us anything we don't already know," she whispered, defeated.

"Children! Breakfast is on the table!" called Mrs. Weasley.

The three of them looked at each other. "Well…" said Ginny.

"Looks like we'll have to tell Dumbledore," said Ron.

"Wait…" said Hermione. "Why not just…tell your mum?"

Ron and Ginny gaped at her.

"What?" she demanded. "She's in the Order, is she not? She goes out on assignment, she knows what's going on, doesn't she? What did you think she was, the Order's housekeeper?"

"Er – well – yeah, I suppose," Ron confessed, his ears burning.

"Listen, both of you," Hermione said firmly, "A lot could have been stopped this year if Harry had just _told _someone what he was seeing, or if Dumbledore had just _told _Harry about the prophecy. It's time to stop hiding things that may come back to bite us later."

There was a moment's silence. Then Ron said, "Fair enough," and walked out the door and down the steps, aware that Hermione and Ginny were right behind him.

As they emerged into the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley appeared, holding a plate of sausages. "Good morning, dears," she said warmly.

"Morning, Mum," Ginny said softly as the three of them seated themselves.

"Er – Mum?" said Ron, mustering up his courage.

"Yes, Ronnie?" she asked as she joined them, and added a few sausages to her plate.

"I have to tell you something," Ron said in a strangled voice.

"Go on," said Mrs. Weasley, eating her sausage unawares.

"It's about the night in the Department of Mysteries."

Mrs. Weasley's forked stopped halfway to her mouth. "What - ?"

Ron drew in a deep breath. "Whenever anyone touches my scars, I get these weird visions of someone's memories…and we reckon that they're You-Know-Who's memories. We reckon it was his brain what attacked me at the Ministry."

Mrs. Weasley stared at him. "What kind of visions, Ron?" she asked in a would-be calm voice.

Ron closed his eyes. "I see out of You-Know-Who's eyes in them…in one of them, I killed You-Know-Who's dad and grandparents…and in the other…I killed Harry's mum," he finished, eyes still closed.

No one moved, though Mrs. Weasley looked stricken.

"Well. That certainly sounds like the work of You-Know-Who…I ought to tell this to the Order straight away," she said, standing and exiting. "Thank you for telling me, Ronnie," she said just before she left the room.

"That didn't go too badly," Hermione offered.

"And now they may be able to do something about it," said Ginny encouragingly.

Ron weakly picked up his fork and speared a sausage. "Just hope it's worth something," he said. He would feel stupid if his visions ended up being harmless.

For a moment they ate in silence, before Hermione broke it once again. "How is your Mum talking to the Order?" she said thoughtfully. "Are they still patrolling the Floo Network?"

"Sure, but for the opposite reasons now," said Ginny. "I heard Dad and Percy talking about it, they're watching the fires to see if any of Voldemort's supporters are communicating."

"That's good news," said Hermione approvingly.

Just then, Mrs. Weasley returned. "I've just spoken to Remus, and he said he'd be sure to pass on the word to Dumbledore, but apparently something's just happened at Grimmauld Place, and they're sending Harry straight over."

"What?" Ginny exclaimed. "I only just got a letter from him, saying he'd be going to Grimmauld Place!"

"Owls travel slower than Portkeys, dear," said Mrs. Weasley vaguely. "And he's only been there a short time…but Remus wouldn't say what the disturbance was, maybe Harry will have some news – "

There was a knock at the door to the Burrow.

"Um. That was fast." Hermione sounded clearly impressed as Mrs. Weasley bustled away to the door, reappearing mere seconds with the familiar form of a black-haired, green-eyed teenager.

"Morning," he said feebly.

"Harry, what's happening?" Ginny asked immediately.

Harry shook his head, still in disbelief. "I'd been inside for all of five minutes, when all of a sudden Snape comes barreling through the door and gasps out, 'There's something wrong with the Dark Lord!' and he saw me standing there and said, 'It's because of you, and Ginny Weasley! Leaving parts of himself on you is spreading his power too thin, he's weakening!' And then the rest of the Order dragged him away and Remus told me it would be best for me to leave for a bit, and tell you what's going on." He shook his head, still trying to process the information.

Everything seemed to be happening at once.

"Me?" Ginny asked in a small voice. When Harry had said 'Ginny Weasley,' she reacted as though she had been slapped.

Harry nodded wordlessly. "I guess…it's taxing on him, to have himself spread out across three different people."

"Four," Hermione breathed in terror.

Harry turned to her.

"What?"

But Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were looking at Ron. "Four," Hermione repeated. "Four people…Ginny, when's the last time you had a peek into Voldemort's memories?"

"Few months ago…in a dream," said Ginny.

"And you, Harry?"

"Not since…not since the night at the Department of Mysteries," said Harry dully.

"But he's only become aware of this _recently, _hasn't he?" Hermione said, her voice shaking. "It's only started weakening him _now_, hasn't it? And what's changed?"

Ron stared at her. "Me," he said. "It's because a new person's started sapping his strength. I've had two visions in the last two days."

"And besides which," said Hermione, looking terrified, "If the three of you all have access to his memories…maybe he's got memories of things that he wants to keep secret from the Order, things he doesn't want anyone to see…he's going to need to get rid of you. _All of you_."

"Would anyone mind explaining to me what's going on?" Harry said angrily.

"All in due time, Harry dear," said Mrs. Weasley, looking sick. "But I think…we should first get you all to safety."

-------------------

"Mum – where are we going?" asked Ginny timidly.

Mrs. Weasley had packed a large bag of things, mostly edible, and had lead the four teenagers outside through the backdoor. As she strode purposefully into the woods behind the Burrow, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry had not spoken a word, but merely followed her.

"We're going to our shelter," she said.

Ron goggled at her. "We've got…a shelter?"

"Of course we do, most wizard families have got one," said Mrs. Weasley impatiently. "Don't you think your father and I would have made provisions for your safety?"

"I guess," said Ron, still mildly surprised.

Finally they reached a small circle where there were no trees. "Look closely, children, in case you'll have to come here again on your own," said Mrs. Weasley as she bent down to the earth and began searching for something.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry exchanged a dark four-way glance.

"Ah, here it is," she said, pushing a large log away, and, having located what appeared to be a sort of _seam _in the ground, she looked up at them.

"What you need to do is stick a wand into the crack," she said in a low voice. "It doesn't activate any magic, so no one can trace it, but it'll still open at the presence of a wand core." Then she stuck her own wand into the crack.

Immediately the ground lifted, as though on a hidden hinge, and the five of them were looking down into a sort of shelter. A ladder lead down into it – Ron could see that it wasn't just one room, but lead off into other darkened chambers. "What's down there?" he asked.

"There are supplies for light, food, and even communication. But pay attention. Once you get in, the shelter will seal itself against _any _intruders. The only way to make is accessible again is to put your wand in the crack from below," said Mrs. Weasley in a business-like tone. "But even if you're down there and hear, for example, my voice, don't open it. I could be talking to you because a Death Eater's wand is at my back. And there are ways to bewitch your voice to make it sound like someone else's, besides. So we've made up a sort of code – only open the shelter if you hear one of our voices saying, 'All's clear, nothing to fear.' Do you understand me? Only if you hear that phrase."

"Yes, Mum," said Ginny, looking shaken.

"Stay here for a bit…maybe I'm overreacting, but better safe than sorry, wouldn't you say?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "I'm going to go to Grimmauld Place and tell them in more detail what we know. I'd bring you, but right now I'm more concerned about your safety. Just stay and wait, alright? I think we left a very old wizard chess set down there…" She looked at them expectantly, but with a tinge of anguish. "Go on, get in," she said.

Seeing his mother's emotional state, Ron descended the ladder into the shelter. He had never felt so odd – so much was happening at once that his brain had not yet caught up, wasn't adjusted. He watched Hermione's progress down the ladder, then Harry's, and finally Ginny's.

"I'll be back soon," said Mrs. Weasley with a weak smile, and then she shut the shelter cover, leaving them in absolute darkness.

----------------------------

A/N – okay. BUT IT WILL STILL GET BETTER, I PROMISE. And sorry that was so short, but such is what happens when you're trying to write two completely different fics at once. 


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